Free My Point ... And I Do Have One by Ellen DeGeneres

don’t have vanilla, you can substitute chocolate, butter pecan, or fudge ripple.
    LAIT
    That’s french for milk. Calling it lait is what makes ordinary French toast Real Frenchy French Toast. You could call all of the ingredients by their french names, but then you’d run the danger of making Really Pretentious Frenchy French Toast.
    To Cook
    Now, do what I do. Give all the ingredients to your housekeeper, sit down with a …
    COLD FROSTY BEER
    in front of the TV, and before you can say Gerard Depardieu, your housekeeper will be bringing out a piping hot bushel of the tastiest French toast you’ve ever had.
    Now, enjoy and bon appétit.

things that
sound like a
good idea at
first, but
really aren’t

    A. Taking a shower with someone.
    B. Pet sitting.
    C. Pie eating contests.
    D. A mud bath followed by a Shiatsu massage.
    E. Having somebody read to you.
    1. Reading to someone else.
    F. Writing a book.

ellen
degeneres is
a man!

or
ellen degeneres is a man!

    A NOTHER P OEM
I wish I were taller
And had perfect legs
And had easier hair to fix
And was a man
Sometimes I do
But not really
But sometimes
But not a lot
Just a little
Once in a while
O.K. only once
When I had to use the restroom
And somebody was in the ladies’ room so it was locked
And the men’s was open but I was too chicken to go in
So I wished I was a man then
Just that one time
    S omeone recently wrote a letter recently to a national magazine recently (and you know it must really be recently since I’ve mentioned it so many times) asking, “Why does Ellen DeGeneres always wear pants and never skirts?”
    I’m guessing that the person who wrote that letter meant skirt, a noun signifying an article of clothing, and not skirt, a verb defined as, “to evade or elude (as a topic of conversation) by circumlocution.” Because, if they mean the verb skirt, well, they’re dead wrong. I’m always skirting. I skirt so much that it would not be inappropriate for someone to call me Skirty, though I can guarantee that I will never answer to that nickname.
    But it’s probably pretty safe to assume that the person who wrote that letter wanted to know why instead of wearing skirts, I wear pants.
    First, let me just say, Wow! Some people have a lot of free time! I mean, it’s one thing to wonder that to yourself. But to actually take time to write to a magazine about it? I have to conclude, however, that if one person wondered that, probably others have too. So, once and for all, here’s the reason.
    If you must know, years ago when I was young and impressionable, after eating some fermented berries at Camp Tatchey-Too Too, I had both my legs completely tattooed with designs of bougainvillaea. Now, if I wear a skirt, I am constantly bothered by bees.
    I hope that clears that up. Thank you for your curiosity.
    All kidding aside—actually, I change my mind. I don’t want to put all kidding aside. I want the kidding right there in front where we all can see it. The main point of this book is kidding. If I put all kidding aside, there would be nothing left but nonkidding, and believe me, that wouldn’t make a very interesting book. So forget that: the kidding stays (or I go).
    Now, where was I? Oh yeah. Some people probably think that you’re less of a woman if you wear pants, and that’s just not fair (unless you’re a man, in that case you might like being thought of as less than a woman … or at least less womanly—or maybe not). So, what am I trying to say? Probably something about how unfair it is to be judged by appearances. Yeah, that sounds right.
    It is unfair to be judged by appearances. Even though I don’t wear skirts, I know I’m a girl. Of course, I forget that sometimes. Wait a minute, I should clear that up. I can already see some reviewer singling that quote out. I don’t forget that I’m a girl—I know I’m a girl (I’ve got two X chromosomes and I’m not afraid to use them)—but I think of myself as a human being